You Deserve Happiness
by hannah-in-a-trenchcoat
Summary: After Dean runs away, Sam can't take it. He needs some comfort from the person who loves him most. Technically a Y/N fic, but it's written in 1st person.


**A/N: I wrote this after watching the 10x03 preview, because all I wanted to do was wrap Sammy up in blankets and hug him...**

**Basically Demon Dean runs away (or something along those lines) and Sam needs comforting. I guess this is a Y/N fic, since I never mention who the narrator is, but it's in first person, so you can make it up...I was super lazy writing this fic, sorry! :)**

After we got back, Sam didn't last very long.

He tossed his bag onto the couch, took a fleeting look at the table, then broke down, crouched on the floor of the Bunker.

"I can't do this, I can't, I can't, I can't..."

Even after everything I'd seen, I couldn't think of anything worse to watch. It hurt to see him cry, and I couldn't think of any way to make him feel better. I had to fix it, but what could I possibly do to make it okay?

My heart broke with each choking sob he made.

I sat, cross legged, by the space next to him, and pulled him into my arms. He didn't put up any resistance, and basically ended up on my lap.

Given his ginormous height and size, it wasn't the most comfortable thing, but I was beyond caring. Whatever he needed, I'd help him.

After a while, the sobs stopped, and he recomposed himself just enough to get off my lap. I was pretty sure my legs were numb.

Neither of us said anything, so I got up, and went into the kitchen. If there was one thing the Winchesters taught me, it was to drown out your sorrows in alcohol until you're past the point of caring.

I popped open a beer and passed it to Sam. He took it without meeting my eyes, and downed it in a gulp. He grabbed another. Drank it. Another.

He was reaching for his 5th when I decided to intervene.

"Whoa, you going for the record?"

He bit his lip.

"Sorry."

"I get it." I took his hand, and squeezed it lightly. "It's been a rough day."

"Understatement."

"At least no one's in hell."

"Not funny."

"It was a little."

Sam smiled. It was my favourite, the shy, goofy grin he has whenever he's momentarily happy, or in this case, distracted.

Unfortunately, he wasn't distracted long. His smile sobered up-though he was probably nowhere _near_ sober-quicker than I would have liked.

He held my gaze before speaking.

"Whats wrong with me?"

I blinked. That was not the question I was expecting. I thought he'd try to talk about Dean, or plans on getting him back, but not questions about his problems. I almost couldn't answer.

"I...nothing. Why would you think something's wrong with you?"

"Because there always has been. I've always been the screw up, the annoying little brother who needs a chaperone. I got hooked on demon blood, remember? I've been a problem since I was _born_, I'm the reason my mother-

"_No_. That is not on you, alright? Don't you go blaming yourself because some sonofabitch picked your life to mess up. None of that was you. It could have been anyone."

"You don't know that-"

"I don't care. Sam Winchester, you are so much more than the boy with the demon blood. You, you're smart, so smart. Funny. Kind. All the crap you've had to put up with and you're still loyal. And brave. You may be a little rough around the edges, but your heart is in the right place. You're a good person through and through. You at least deserve to know that. You deserve love. You deserve to come home with a smile on your face. Hell, you deserve a _dog_, if thats what you want. You're beautiful, Sam, don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

Somewhere throughout my speech I must have started crying, because Sam lifted his hand to my face and wiped away a stray tear. His eyes were still sad, but he had a trace of a smile on his lips-my favourite smile.

He helps me up. Neither of us are crying anymore. I sigh, and look up.

"Dinner?"

"Sounds great. And...thank you. You always know what to say."

I tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

"It was just the truth. It's nice to see you smile, though." I add.

Sam smiles back, heading for the couch. Halfway, he pauses and turns around, a mischievous look on his face.

"Hey..."

"Hmm?"

"Were you serious about the dog?"

I roll my eyes.

"Quiet or you're not getting dinner."

"Yes ma'am."

And just like that, everything returned to normal.


End file.
